


A.G.R.A

by LucillaAurelius



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2834120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucillaAurelius/pseuds/LucillaAurelius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(My grammer and spelling suck ass because im a very bad dyslexic. My apologies)</p>
<p>This is not cannon per se, but i wanted to explore some of Mary background now she was married and pregnant. I wanted to try and figure out what makes Mary tick and why she made the choices she did in shooting Sherlock.  She is a complex and strong character with a lot of secrets and I find that exhilarating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mary sits at the window of her small flat staring at the falling snow settling on London’s streets as the sun beings to set. The sight is beautiful but Mary fails to notice that, she is too caught up in her thoughts. She places a hand on the window and winces at the cold against her skin, the discomfort somehow making her feel alive. She sighs and looks around the empty flat behind her, a small tear falls from her cheek onto the windowsill. She lets the curtain fall back and leans back wrapping her cardigan around her tightly, gently stroking her prominent baby bump. It had been months since John found out her secret and that moment keeps playing in her mind, every detail of the moment, the smell of gunpowder lingers in her mind as well as the look on Johns face as he passed her in that tiny corridor and walked away. She can still feel how close he was, she really wanted to reach out and grab him and she wanted him to hold her but he didn't even blink, only pure hatred shone in his eyes that night. Mary catches her breath and tries to hold back the tears some more as the thoughts of 23 and 24 Leinster Gardens fills her mind threatening to overwhelm her. She rubs her stomach and thinks of the little thing growing inside her wondering what was to become for them both. John is the only family she now had left and she can not bring the child into the world alone, she can not even bring herself to think about that. Mary loves John but none of that matters now, he hates her he said so himself. He hates her and rightly so, she lied to him and she could never forgive herself for that no matter her reason into keeping her passed from him, to protect him. She quickly turns her thoughts to Christmas a week and a half gone and everything he had said feels like a lie now and it seemed to make no difference to his true feelings.

He had told her "The problems of your past are your business, the problems of your future are my privilege".

Four days later after a stupid little argument, they had had a slagging match and it all came out again, John stormed out saying he was leaving and wished he had never come back and Mary just stood there sobbing all the kindest and forgiveness he had shown her at Christmas forgotten. Mary walks away from the window shaking her head at the memory of the words and picks up her phone from the coffee table. Since John had walked out he had not made contact, but Mary had sent well over 50 messages and voice mails. She starts to write out another message but deletes it and simply sends. “I am leaving”. She bites her lip and wipes another tear from her cheek whilst staring into the empty space that was her flat. She starts to bite her thumb nail wondering if he would read it this time, but her heart knows he won't and she will now have to walk out of his life never to be seen again. Mary sits down on the coffee table and picks up the letter she had written that morning. The last morning she would have to wake up alone in the bed she use to share with her husband, her breath catches in her throat as she looks down at the letter and rereads it making sure everything was contained.

Dear John

When Mary Morstan came into being I thought I had escaped my earlier life, I stood over that little girls grave and I promised her I would live the life she could not for her. I thought I could start again and be happy. When I found you I knew I had found my soul mate, but now because of a past I cannot change. A past I was groomed for as a child, I have lost you and you have lost me. I am done with saying sorry, I am done with trying to fix this. Nothing I do or say makes any difference. Not even me carrying your child makes any difference to you. I made my mistakes and I paid for them a long time ago, a time before you, before Mary. You asked me to be your wife because you loved me, why can that not be enough now. Why can I not be enough for you. I have hurt you and I am sorry for that, but I can not pay for it for the rest of my life. In three months I will give birth to our daughter, a child made from love. But you will not be there to hold my hand, I will do this alone like I have been most of my life. When she is born and healthy enough to travel, I will send her to you. I am not worthy to be a mother, but you, you will make a great father. If you ever speak of me to her, be kind and tell her I died. I don't know where I will go, maybe back to the US maybe I will go find my parents and live my life in the south like a good homecoming girl, just like my mother always wanted. Never forget that I love you, I hold my vows to you for life.

Your ever loving wife.

Mary

She checks that everything for the last time and places it on his chair so he can find it and gets up, walking up the stairs, into the bedroom and sits down on the end of the bed sobbing. Every aspect of this room reminds her of John, it even smells of his aftershave. The thoughts of the last time they had made love floats into her mind. It had been a passionate affair, they had played with each other for hours and she had finally let him go down on her. Something she was always so scared about. But it felt real, fantastic and beautiful. It was not until it was 4am in the morning that they had actually stopped. There lovemaking had made it out into the lounge and onto the floor. Mary smiles and looks through the door to the lounge and remembered how John had almost fitted when he realised he had got some cum on the rug and it could not come out, no matter how hard he tried. As she tries to push the thoughts from her mind Mary crawls up the bed and lays down on Johns pillow cradling her bump. She pushes her head into the pillow and takes in the scent left there, the scent of her now lost husband.

As she goes to grab the pillow to bring it to her chest she feels the cold mental of a gun and she pulls it out to look at it. They had, after the Christmas meal gone home and had slept in the same bed until a few days ago when it all changed and he abruptly left. She had not slept and only dozed on the sofa. The presence of the gun cuts deep into Mary, and she realises he had never really trusted her after the revelation. She had not changed the bed because he insisted on doing it as she was pregnant. Now she knows the real reason, he was hiding his gun. Mary feels sick and takes deep breaths to calm her stomach as she places the gun down on the bed and pats it. John had slept next to his pregnant wife with a loaded gun under his pillow, revelation of him doing so shocking Mary to her core. After a while she gets up and grabs a bag from under the bed. She goes to the wardrobe and just starts grabbing at clothes stuffing them into the bag. She then moves to the chest of draws and throws them open, grabbing underwear and socks. Suddenly Mary looks up and catches the picture of her and John on their wedding day. So happy, his smile lighting up the picture like he was the cat that got the cream. She throws the picture to the wall and the glass smashes into a thousand pieces. Mary runs over to the picture frame and bends down to pick it up, as she does she cuts herself on the glass across her palm. Only a small cut but it makes her break down and she sinks fully onto the floor sobbing again completely lost in her misery as she hugs her legs bleeding all over her leggings, oblivious.

The night is cold and snowing but John barely noticed this as he walked around the darkening streets of London. He was things too much about the fight with his wife and how much his life has changed so much since Mary came along. John thought about Sherlock death and how it had effected him so much causing him to start drinking again and being reckless with his feelings, he had even taken to go on one night sands anything to feel excitement and danger. It had taken him a whole year of dangerous stupid behavior until Mary joined the surgery and changed his whole life. She had made him happy in that year before Sherlock return and he was preparing to ask her to marry him before Sherlock came back and almost sent John back over the edge. But they all moved on and John and Mary married each other and Sherlock was there to stay. John looks down at his wedding ring and flicks it with his thumb smiling slightly at the memory. But the memory turns bitter when he remembers how it was all torn apart when he found out Mary's true nature and being. She wasn't who she claimed to be, her whole person was a lie and it had cut at John to think he trusted her and it took months of not speaking to her before he finally realised Sherlock’s words are true.

“You chose her.”

Then at Christmas he made a promise to move on and be with her no matter what, he wanted so much to be a family with her. But not barely two weeks later he had broken that promise and in a stupid argument he had uttered the words he knew would hurt her. "How can i fucking trust you when i don't even know your name!" He had said the words in anger and didn't really mean them but it was too late, the damage had been done and he saw the hurt in her eyes and he couldn't look at her anymore. In a fit on anger and hurt he had grabbed various things and bolted for the door. He didn't look back. He couldn't look back. Looking back would mean more anger, more hateful words and in a strange way he had loved her too much for that. John had moved back into Baker Street with the hope that some familiar surroundings would offer comfort and a solution. But even baker street reminded him of Mary and how that fateful night they had made her their client. They had made her sit in the chair as Sherlock questioned her, John looking at Sherlock unable to even glance at his wife as his world unraveled. Nothing could stop the pain of that night haunting him. For a week after John had had left Mary he had sat in his chair unable to think of anything apart from how they had met, flirted, dated, then made love and finally got married all in a year. She was perfect for him and now he saw she was a little too perfect.

John stops suddenly at the memories to find he was back at his flat, at his own front door. He looks up and sees the lights are on. Mary must be home, he thinks to himself as he takes another step closer to the door. He couldn't leave a child in this kind of state, he needed to do something to try fix this again, but would Mary take him back, could she?. Yes, he chose Mary and yes, he chose not to speak to her for month. Now, he chooses to do what is best for the child. John decides in that moment that he will stand by his wife and their daughter and try to put the past behind him no matter what this time. Not thinking of anything else but Mary and the child, John enters their flat and calls out to Mary. When he gets no answer he climbs up to the bedroom and sees her laying on the floor sobbing, his gun on the bed. With a trembling voice John reaches out for Mary tears in his eyes.

"Mary it is not what you think...."


	2. Chapter 2

Mary lies on the floor in a ball a while, she had heard John but was not interested in making conversation no matter how upset he sounded. She feels herself cramping up after a few more minutes so she lays flat on her back and stares at the ceiling, running circles around her tummy. John just stares blankly at her waiting for Mary to say something anything. She lifts up her hand to inspect the wound and sees that it is clotting already so licks it and rubs off any excess blood before pushing herself up and sits crossed legged on the floor. Suddenly she looks up and hatred fills her heart and unable to keep herself calm any longer Mary goes for the gun and in one movement is kneeling and pointing the Browning at Johns face.

"Guess you read your phone then, come to gloat have you or just make sure I really am going?" Mary spits as she struggles to get up off the floor to a now standing position. Her eyes lock on to John and she notices the hesitation in his movements. Then she saw it, he was scared of her and she did not wait for him to answer. 

"Why the gun, why keep a loaded gun next to your pregnant wife?" Mary almost screams in desperation. John reels from the volume of Mary's voice but tries to stay calm he takes a step forward to show he was not scared of her. Even though deep down inside he was terrified of what she might do. John nervelessley coughs as he reaches out his hand to place it on top of the gun pushing it down to face the floor.

"To protect you Mary, it was to protect you. After Magnussen I felt helpless and could not lose you. The very thought made me feel sick even though we were not talking. Mary please." John was almost begging at this point his hands shaking at the thought of being shot by his wife. 

"I told you I wold get angry from time to time, I warned you that it would take me a long time to get over all this. You shot Sherlock, my best friend and lied to me about who you are. But what is hurting me the most is you don't think i trust you and you keep pushing and pushing and it is killing me. I fucked up by not talking to you I get that but surely you can understand?" John mutters as she waves his hand at the gun and Mary.

"Oh I understand perfectly" Mary snaps back as she places the gun back on to safety mode and drops it to her side. "I understand that you can not handle who and what I am. I understand you hate me."

"Yes I hate you but I also love you. I have trapped you in a loveless marriage carrying my child and all because I chose you. I chose danger." John moves to sit on the bed his shoulders heavy with guilt and exhaustion.

"But I guess you aren't really trapped in a marriage are you, after all you were not illegally Mary Morstan when I married you. I guess you are free." John relies he is attacking again and stands to face Mary his tone softer this time. 

"I came back for you and the child, but I left because I thought it would be better for you, better you lived a life without a husband who hated you and situation you have put me in." John looks at the floor and runs a hand over his face unable to even think of the right thing to say let alone actually say it. He thinks instead it best to stay quite from now on and just show his love her Mary by not leaving her alone again. He knows he has said the wrong things again but he was useless at hiding his anger.

Mary just stares at John in shock, she knew he felt trapped in an impossible situation, but she never thought he hated her so much. She tries to speak but her body starts shaking with anger as she listens to her husband berating her. When he finishes all he has to say, Mary takes a step closer and slaps him across the face twice hard. Leaving her hand stinging. She walks to the door after picking up her go bag the gun still in her hand. She stops, turning slightly to address the man who has broken her heart, who has now destroyed her.

"Firstly that gun is yours I found it under your pillow, not mine I never brought guns into our home. I'm guessing your plan was to kill me in my sleep, but could not do it so made a pathetic excuses about trying to protect me." Mary feels her anger rising, unable to control it any longer. Her voice full of hurt.

"Secondly everything I did that night was to protect you, if that psycho Magnussen had had his way I would have been put back on the Dark net and I would have been hunted down, not only that but you and Sherlock too. As for the illegally married thing, how fucking dare you, how dare you say that how DARE YOU." Mary finishes screaming.

Mary loses complete control and slams her hand into the wall as she screams at John. She storms out into the lounge and grabs the letter she had written. John quickly runs after her in utter shock and self loathing. He was causing her to lose control, to shout, to hit him. He was getting worried all the stress would now harm the baby so keeps his distance. Suddenly he feels a pain in his chest and looks down to see Mary slamming her hand into it, her fingers gripping onto a letter.

"As for the child she is yours, I will send her to you...." Mary stutters only seeing red mist, the love in her heart dead.

Mary storms out before the desire to shoot her husband becomes too much and she makes her way down to her car and fiddles with the keys, her hands trembling too much to unlock it. She drops the keys and throws the bag to the ground screaming in frustration.  John stands rooted to the spot as the letter falls to the floor, completely dumbfounded and numb. He had done it again, he had let his anger rule his head. Slowly John bends down to pick up the letter and starts to read it as he walks towards the front door of the flat. John tries to read the letter but his anger spikes again as she feels the stinging in his cheek surfacing so shoves it in his coat pocket to read later. Suddenly the realisation hits him like a wall. She just hit him and accused him of trying to kill her. His face is now red from where she hit him, John storms out of the flat and towards Mary who is still trying to get into the car. 

"HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!!! I'm a Dr not a bloody cold-blooded killer like you who shoots someone without a care." John snaps his fingers to emphasise the point and immediately regrets the words and actions so lows is voice and tries to soften his tone once more.

"I had it to protect you. How would I know if there where not others out coming to try hurt you or worse?" John lets out a nervous sigh and pats his hands on the sides of his legs. He was almost bouncing on his toes a habit John got into when angry or nervous. Mary just stands facing the car rooted to the spot, she didn't dare turn to face John for fear of seeing the pain in his eyes again.

"Why did you have to shoot Sherlock, why could not come to us for help, we could have helped. I just don't get why you had to shoot my best friend and nearly kill him.  Why couldn't you trust me or him, the lack of trust in me, someone you claim to love, hurts Mary, it hurts." John stops bouncing and rests his hands, he brings them up to rest a hand on Mary's shoulder the other on her shaking arm his voice again beginning to stutter and break.

"I want to trust you I want to love you but how can I be certain your love for me is real and not just part of some sort of elaborate game to hide from your past Mary? " John drops his hands to his sides once he is sure Mary was not going to engage him in any way. Mary just keeps staring at the car, tears streaming down her face in silent but all-consuming sobs.

"How do I know if you ever really loved me at all and wasn't just a game to you to keep you occupied?" John turns to leave Mary as she just remains rooted to the spot. Mary brings up a shaky hand and wipes the tears from her cheeks. John stops in the middle of the road not caring if a car hit him at any moment, with his voice barely a whisper he address Mary one last time.

"You take our child and raise her. She deserves a mother,a mother who can protect her and love her properly. It is clear that person will never be me. Take her and tell her nothing of me, or tell her I am dead. She does not need a father in her life who can't even tell when the one he loves is lying to him!" John bites his lip at his last word and tries to say more but fails. He had said his piece he had once again lost his temper and hurt Mary he knew that. He walks to the steps leading up to their flat and sits down staring at Marys back, barely noticing how cold and damp his arse was getting from the snow.  Mary picks the keys from off the floor and takes a step towards John, tears streaming down her face as she shout at him from across the street.

"Protection?!, you fucking hypocrite. You never slept with one under your pillow until my secret came out. And I shot Sherlock where I knew he would live you asshole, I knew he would not die!"  Mary holds her anger in check for the sake of the child, who is already stirring in her tummy and takes a deep breath.

"If you question my love you, if you can be so cruel as to think I would use you in such a way, then you are not the man I love. Every Time we had sex, every time I told you I loved you, I was telling the truth. Why can't you see I was trying to protect you the only way I knew how. The every fact you think I am nothing but a whore..is..I.!?" Mary cries.  She catches herself before she finished her sentence and turns to the car and unlocks it surprised by her own words. She grabs her bag and throws it in. Without turning she address John unashamedly crying this time.

"It would have hurt less if you had actually shot me. I never thought you could hate me so much. I thought our love was real. Goodbye John." Mary adds the tears streaming back down her face once more.

Mary gets in the car, she pauses hoping upon hope that she could wake up from this nightmare. She turns her head and looks at the man she loves with her entire heart. A man she loves so much she was willing to kill his best friend to protect him. John just stares back unable to move as a wave of guilt flooded him body making him nauseous. He could not believe he just let Mary think she was no better than a whore and he hated himself even more now. Quickly he goes to stand and almost runs for the passenger door, but Mary has locked it and he can not gain access to their car, he bashes the window trying to make her turn her head but all Mary does it turn over the engine and the car roars into life. He hits the window harder knowing full well he had gone to fair and said far to many hurtful things, things he wishes he could take back. He fights with the door crying out to Mary. 

"Please open the door Mary...please". 

But is in vain and Mary stares at John as she mouths I love you and pulls away fast, tears streaming down her face. She keeps driving not thinking about where she is heading only that she has to get away. John stands in the middle of the road and watches the car pull away feeling hopeless and broken. He runs his hands through his hair made damp by the falling snow and begins to cry. When he can no longer see the their car John walks back to the steps and almost collapses on to them. He tries to think of where she would go but draws a blank. Slowly he pulls himself up and moves back into the flat and collapses onto the sofa. He pulls out the letter from his coat pocket and begins to read it knowing full well it would only make him feel even more miserable, but at this point he did not care. Once he finishes reading the letter he grabs his phone and calls Mary, taking deep breaths as to clam his voice. Once Mary knows she is far enough away she slows her speed and starts to think of her next move. The car starts to ring and Mary looks at the screen to see John's name pop up, She bites her lip and decides to answer but not let John speak.

"Read the letter John..."Mary hangs up before John can answer and just talks to the dialing tone.

"I have that's why I c..." 

John drops his phone next to him and picks up the letter again trying not to cry even more. He tries to think who would know where Mary might have gone but realises that he has no idea who Mary really is and what she might have out there. John comes to the sudden realisation that he must find Mary no matter what. After another half an hour of driving to get out of greater London, Mary pulls over to start-up her SatNav. Mary types in a postcode into the cars system and starts the navigation. She pulls back out and starts her journey to the only other place she called home, the place which brought her to England in the first place. The place which made Mary leave the CIA. A house which holds her true deepest secret. As Mary drives along she thinks about calling John back, begging for his forgiveness. She looks down at the baby bump and sighs. "I am sorry little one. None of this is your fault."  Mary hits the speed dial on the car system and begins to call John as she looks in the rear view mirror to see if he is following her in a Taxi. John sits for a whilst trying to bring his crying under control with deep breathing and a half hearten attempted at logical thinking. He contemplates getting hold of Sherlock to help find Mary but decides against it. John gets up and leaves his phone on the sofa as she goes up to their bedroom to try to start hunting for clues with in Mary's belongings. He doesn't hear his phone ring from the bedroom and the phone goes to voice mail making Mary slam her hands against the steering wheel in frustration. She continues to drive for the next hour until she turns into a small village and drives passed a church. Suddenly she spots the cottage and it brings a smile to her face, all be it for a fleeting moment. She pulls into the drive parks up and sits in the car, her head lights making the windows glow. She knows there is no one in the house, Mary had seen to that years ago. She takes a deep breath and slowly gets out of the car making sure she grabs her bag and heads towards the back of the house. Passing a small fenced off pond with a little bridge she turns to follow the path to the back door now over gown a little with weeds, the staff she had employed to look after the cottage must have given up trying to keep the place looking spotless knowing no one ever came to visit. Mary stops and tries to picture the two little girls who use to live here with their parents before she had come. Mary pictures them running around the garden giggling and smiles at the thought of her own child's voice, before she realises she would never hear it. Mary bites back the tears and bends down to the plant pot by the door and finds the back door key and let herself into the cottage.


End file.
